Big, black, heavy, furry, and ugly. Loud, massive, beastly, foreboding. Devastating, gruesome, grizzly, and ominous. Words. All descriptors of a band called Death Wolf. All words that sum up in no small part the sonic brutality that makes up the band’s self titled album. Is it a debut? I don’t know. I don’t care. The album is easily one of the most intense metal listens I’ve had in awhile. That doesn’t mean that it’s the most musically interesting or compositionally exceptional records out there . . . simply fucking intense. Pure, unabashed and uncompromising heavy metal . . . arguably encompassing all of the characteristics a heavy metal record should have. Music that’s so heavy and discordant, so filled with testosterone, tension, and gusto that one must respect it in fear that it will overwhelm their souls.
Death Wolf were apparently once know as Devils Whorehouse (I know . . . cool name, huh?) and are manned by one of the dudes from Swedish Black Metallers Marduk . . . ultimately, none of that means much to me. Well . . . except the Devils Whorehouse thing. I’ve never listened to Marduk and only know them by reputation, but this much can be said for one not in the know . . . Death Wolf sounds nothing like Marduk. They incorporate these great elements of doom, and stoner, and sludge, and thrash, and speed , and balls-out, fuck-you metal. Combine the demonic crooning of Danzig and mix it with sheer heart attack of Motorhead and then the tonal weight of Neurosis and you get something sorta’ like Death Wolf. At times, Death Wolf remind me of fellow Swedish uncategorizable metallic rockers, Transport League. More rock than metal, but more metal than anything else. Y’know? Yeah. Me either.
Opening volley, “Circle of Abomination” is heaven wrapped up in a three minute metallic chestnut. Firing off with a high speed, up tempo tirade accompanied by a wall of distorted instrumental chaos and a vocal performance that has me thinking of Glenn Danzig hopped up on something darker and heavier than even the darkest moments of Samhain. Listen close enough to the rolling pattern of the drums and you’ll practically visualize a runaway locomotive barreling down the tracks. The utterly brilliant moment of this song is at the 1:40 mark when the bottom drops out this beast and the song chugs along at a dastardly and drastically reduced tempo. The little wah effect on the guitars, the chiming of the bell, the ominous vocal and instrumental tone . . . all weaved around each other to create that perfect amount of tension before fading into the crimson fog from whence this whole creature came from in the first place.
“The Other Hell”, heavy as hell and just as sinister, has me clutching my bedspread close to my throat with eyes wide open in terror. This track wavers back and forth between huge walls of dissonance to moments of sparseness, and once we get to these quieter passages, the vocal performance, like the icy fingers of death brushing softly across the skin, sends chills up the spine. Then is dissolves into waves of feedback and the howl of wolves, becoming the haunting and ominous “Morning Czar Shineth”. What a captivating nugget of sound! Again, sparse when it needs to be and creepy as all fuck when it is, then filled with more notes so heavy and oppressive . . . it’s a classic track that will, like the chorus suggests, will have you beg and beg for more. The bass tone is unreal. The vocal performance is otherworldly. The overall power of this song is the creaking of the gates of hell as the passage slowly opens and the smell of brimstone assails the nostrils. A sudden blast of heat and fire, and we’re reduced to a pile of ash.
“Sword and Flame” picks up the tempo once again. We’re not talking about blackened blastbeats in terms of speed, but a nice and steady, upbeat tempo with instruments chugging away to keep pace. I like that Death Wolf mix up the tempos throughout the album . . . I never get too stuck in one groove. One minute, droning at a slow groove, the next exploding within a fast paced fury. We get to go back to that slower groove on “Wolf’s Pallid Sister”, and we get to experience the closest thing to one of those massive thrash riffs that seem to move a mosh pit from one wall to the opposite. Heavy and throbbing, the groove on this track is dense, but executed with some deftness. Listen to some of the intricate licks these guys slip into the midst of this riff . . . that, my friends, is some tasty stuff! I also love the vocal performance, specifically at the chorus. Great dynamic shift at the midpoint, as well. Again . . . well executed to capture the most tension and intensity possible.
Death Wolf’s self-titled disc is one of those albums that on first listen I thought, ‘This rocks,’ but I wasn’t sure just how much. That first listen was definitely compelling, hell . . . compelling enough for me to want to listen again. And then, by listen number six hundred and sixty-six, it was all I could do to peel the headphones from my head (I’m sure some skin was removed along with the ‘phones)and stop listening to this thing. I mean . . . for as much as I’ve listened to this album and think it rocks, I know deep down in the darkest darkness of my now darkened soul that this thing rocks infinitely more than I think it does. I started this review off with a boatload of adjectives and descriptors of this album, and while they all suffice, you might want to quantify just how big, black, heavy, furry, and ugly . . . Loud, massive, beastly, foreboding . . . Devastating, gruesome, grizzly, and ominous this thing really is. I’d go as far as to say that if you apply a number to any of these words, you’ll need to multiply it . . . by a hundred . . . and then that still may not be enough. One cannot truly describe Death Wolf, one must experience that album, and then no amount of words will accurately depict what that experience was.
